Attack of the Hentai Monster
by IcedHotChocolate
Summary: Something evil is attacking Santa Carla, but almost everyone is too busy having sex to do anything about it. So, it’s up to Edgar and Alan to save the day. Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1: Introduction

**Attack of the Hentai Monster**

**_Chapter One_ **

**Actually, it's more like an Introduction**

**But I'm calling it Chapter One because it's annoying when you call it an Introduction and then the chapter list says: 1. Introduction, 2. Chapter One.**

**You know?**

**Yeah, that really bothers me. I wish you change the numbers.**

**Summary: **Something evil is attacking Santa Carla, but almost everyone is too busy having sex to do anything about it. So, it's up to Edgar and Alan to save the day. Along the way, they encounter other paranormal creatures that you probably didn't know were infesting Santa Carla. Can they stop the Evil Thing before it is too late? And will they too get some ass? Or will they die of blue balls?

**Warnings: **Man, what am I _not _going to have to warn people about for this one? I only have this chapter and part of the second written, but it looks like it's going to be pretty pervy, and possibly violent. I'm just going to go with the usual: CRACK, M/M, F/F (or rather, F/F/F), TALK OF PERVY THINGS, AND... CRACK. Oh, and some OC's, but I don't think they'll be a major part of the story.

**Pairings: **Right now, it's mostly just mentions of pairings. No real action. But throughout the entire story, there will be mentions of: David/Michael (duh), Marko/Sammy (couldn't resist xD), Paul/Dwayne, Star/OFC/OFC, and Edgar/?, Alan/?

--

It was an uncomfortably warm evening in Santa Carla, just like any other. Random people in bathing suits bustled past each other, shooting furtive glances at the leather clad people loitering on every corner. A strange mix of metal, pop, chatter, and screaming floated into the ears of anyone who happened to be outside. One might think that the night was perfectly normal, or as perfectly normal as a night in Santa Carla could be.

_Not so._

Little did the innocent (or maybe not so innocent) citizens of Santa Carla know that something bigger than anything they could ever imagine was brewing in the recesses of hell beneath the town. Something so sinister, so threatening, so sparkly, that it would take some pretty grand and unorthodox heroes to thwart it.

It wasn't vampires. They were a threat, yes, but only to the human citizens with fresh, tasty blood flowing in their veins. And that wasn't anything personal. It was merely a matter of survival. It wasn't really their fault. This new threat that was brewing had no excuses for the destruction it could cause, however, and would threaten even the hordes of vampires that flocked to Santa Carla, for some reason.

It wasn't werewolves, or demons, or zombies, or aliens, or any of the normal paranormal things that occasionally showed up in Santa Carla. (Most people know of the vampire infestation, but you rarely hear of the pack of werewolves living up in the mountains, or the UFO's that regularly crash on the beach, or the countless large-scale zombie attacks that occur.) None of these things were particularly pleasant, but they could be dealt with easily enough. Anything will go away if you throw enough shoes at it.

_--_

"_Rawr!" growled the vicious werewolf, rearing impressively in front of the full moon. Marko sighed and pulled off one of his stilettos._

"_Go away," he said, throwing it at the werewolf. The werewolf let out an anguished shriek and retreated with its tail between its legs. _

_--_

"_I have come to rape you in your sleep, Michael Emerson!" shouted the incubus, leaning his sexy body over Michael's vulnerable form. He shook his massive penis and prepared to slam it into Michael's rusty sheriff's badge, when suddenly, a combat boot sailed through the air and hit him in the jaw. _

"_Don't you _dare _touch my bitch," growled David, pulling off his other boot and preparing to throw it at the demon. _

"_Woah, sorry man, didn't know he was yours," said the demon, "Totally my bad." He spread his leathery wings and dove gracefully out the window. _

_--_

"_Braaaaiiiinnnnsss…" The collective moaning of the zombie army was enough to make even the bravest of men shit their pants and scream like schoolgirls. Even the Frog Brothers, who were, of course, the epitome of bravery and manliness, were huddled in their basement, hoping that if they ignored the zombies, they would just go away._

"_Braaaaaiiiinnnnsss…" moaned a zombie, tottering up to Star. She rolled her eyes and bopped it on the head with her shoe until its green zombie brains began to dribble out of its ears. Another larger zombie waddled towards Katy. _

"_Braaaaaiiinnnnnssss…" it groaned, drool dripping from its grey, undead lips. Katy squealed and hid her face in her hands. The zombie raised its arms and prepared to make a feast of her brains when a large leather boot swung out from behind him and cracked the back of its skull._

"_You've been a naughty, naughty zombie," cooed Monique as she beat it over the head with her dominatrix boot. _

_--_

"_Take us to your leader!" cried the king of the aliens._

"_No!" A wave of shoes crashed over the flying saucer. The aliens quickly ran back into their ship._

"_Man, this planet fucking sucks," said Orzuuk, "Let's go home." _

_--_

In fact, shoes are very useful weapons even when dealing with completely normal things as well, like really annoying people. Sammy couldn't even count how many people trying to give him fashion advice he had driven away with the power of his tacky yellow shoes. (He had the most evolved fashion sense of anyone in that town, he said. 99 of the residents disagreed with him. The other 1 was blind.)

Something impervious even to shoes was growing below the surface, however, and it would not be long before it emerged. Only those who were very in tune with supernatural elements could feel its approach, and only a select few in the region would be able to prevent it from completely decimating Santa Carla and, possibly, the entire world.

--

"Star, I think the ground just glowed for a second," said Katy. Star removed her face from Katy's crotch.

"I'm glad you think so highly of my talents," she said, smirking.

"Star, did I say that you could stop pleasuring Katy?" said Monique delivering a sharp slap to Star's naked behind.

"Sorry, Mistress," muttered Star, returning to her obscene exploration of the pink cave that was Katy's vagina.

--

"Holy shit! I just saw a green shooting star!" cried Michael, looking up at the sky. David huffed angrily.

"I don't like that you're still coherent enough to observe the sky," he said, thrusting forward a bit, "Maybe I just have to fuck you even harder." Michael groaned as David assaulted his bum even more brutally (and pleasurably) than before.

--

"How do you feel about bondage?" asked Marko, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. Sammy shrugged.

"I don't know, I haven't really tried it," he said. Marko grinned lecherously.

"Well, you're about to try it now," he said. "On your knees, slut." Sammy smiled and got down on his hands and knees. A tentacle poked out of the ground and waved through the air in a very sinister manor, but Marko was too busy chaining Sammy up to notice, and Sammy was too busy thinking about being chained to notice.

"Spread your legs like the little whore you are," said Marko, picking up his riding crop.

Sammy's happy shouts could be heard for miles around.

--

"It's my turn to be on top," said Paul, pushing Dwayne back onto the bed. Dwayne glared as Paul eagerly straddled him and began to pull off his shirt.

"I don't think so," he said, grabbing Paul's shoulders and quickly reversing their positions. Paul grabbed Dwayne's biceps and tried to roll him over.

"Dude, that's not fair!" he whined, "You topped last night!" Dwayne grinned at him and slid a hand down to firmly grip Paul's ass.

"That's because I am a natural born top," he said, "If you want to top, you're going to have to be a little more aggressive than that." Paul narrowed his eyes.

"Is that a challenge?" Dwayne smirked.

"Maybe."

--

"Wanna watch Ghostbusters again?" asked Alan. Edgar chewed a gummy worm like a bored cow chewing its cud.

"Sure," he said through a mouthful of garish green and pink worm bits, "Might as well. I still don't have all of the lines from that one middle scene memorized." Alan pushed the tape in and grabbed a blue and yellow worm.

"Dude, what would you do if you encountered a ghost?" he asked as the previews began flashing across the screen.

"Nothing," said Edgar, "Ghosts aren't really harmful. They're only floaty bits of soul. This movie is a total dramatization." Alan snickered.

"You know, you might say the same thing about vampire movies, except…"

"That is totally different," said Edgar, "Now, please be quiet so I can watch the movie." The two brothers sat there in total silence, moving their lips along with the lines. They didn't miss a single line.

--

Underneath the crust of the earth, the Evil Thing shifted and gurgled. _Soon, _it said to itself, _Soon I will be free of this place. _

--

**Author's Note:** Omigod! That wasn't an obnoxious cliffie at all! So, I'm hella bad at multichapter fics. I get distracted really easily. I'll try to stick to this one if people like it, but I can't promise anything xD. I have shitloads of ideas for oneshots and whatnot, so I'll try to get those up soon-ish. _Please review! _I'm always trying to improve my writing. Any input is appreciated, and I will try to take constructive criticism as maturely as possibly.


	2. Chapter 2: It's still pretty nonsensical

**Attack of the Hentai Monster**

**_Chapter Two _**

**I think this is actually just the first part of Chapter Two. But yeah, since I was taking so fucking long I thought I'd go ahead and posty post this **

**Warnings: **Same stuff as before. It's getting crackier and a bit pervier though.

**Pairings: **No mention of any pairings in this chapter. Thinking I may go Frogcest for the main course (sorry if you don't like it :( I just love it too much to resist it).

_Forgive my totally suck-tastic writing on this xP_

* * *

In the remote hills of Santa Carla, a large patch of ground bubbled.

It did not shake.

It did not crack.

It bubbled. Like milk does when you blow through your straw.

This might not have been strange if it was a body of water, or even mud. However, this was a piece of dry, grassy dirt. And it was bubbling.

Can you picture what dirt looks like when it bubbles? You probably can't. It is unlike anything you have seen before. Bubbles of wet things all look more or less the same. Bubbles of dry things are something else entirely. They are a rare and magical occurrence that usually signified the arrival of something bigger than life itself.

Which was, of course, exactly what was happening on the side of this California hill.

Only one person saw it. Actually, it wasn't really a person. It was a little goat. A goat owned by Samuel Emerson, to be precise. Its name was Lord Magenta, and it really did not appreciate the grass that it had been happily munching on suddenly up and deciding to bubble.

"Ridiculous," he muttered. "What is this world coming to?" He trotted off to find something else to eat, something that wouldn't start moving when it _wasn't supposed to_.

If the bubbling ground had possessed a mind of any sort, it might have let out a self-satisfied chuckle. It didn't have a mind, however, so it didn't chuckle.

The Thing _underneath _the ground, however, had a mind, and it let out a self-satisfied chuckle instead.

One of the dry bubbles popped, and a sparkly green tentacle slowly emerged from the small hole it had created. The tentacle waved to one side, then to the other. Sensing no immediate danger, another tentacle (this one orange) joined the first.

Glittery silver mucus dripped from both of the tentacles in large quantities, and the blades of grass it landed on dissolved into puddles of thick, white liquid that was not entirely unlike semen.

A pink tentacle abruptly spilled forth from a different hole, and a purple tentacle followed it closely. The acidic mucus that dripped freely from both of them was quickly turning that innocent patch of grass into a not-so-innocent puddle of mysterious semen-like liquid. Had anyone been there to see it, they might have said the apocalypse, or something equally nasty, was approaching. However, since everyone was at home, occupied with whatever occupies people at four o'clock in the afternoon on a Thursday (that is to say, nothing of any great importance), no one remarked on the apocalyptic aura of the glittery mucus and puddles of semen.

--

"Man, what the hell is _in _this stuff?" asked Edgar, eyeing the liquid in his glass. Alan blinked sluggishly and shrugged.

"Sammy said it was his 'special mixture'. It could be anything."

"I'm suspicious of anything that Sammy calls 'special'," said Edgar, picking up the bottle and shaking it. Alan mumbled something in agreement. The two of them sat there for a minute, not saying anything. Edgar drained the last bit of the greenish liquid in his glass and slowly licked his lips in what might have been called a seductive manner if it hadn't been _Edgar Frog _who was doing it. Alan giggled.

"You're such… a porn star," he said, flicking his brother on the lip, "Porny horny porn star. Porn star Eddy." Edgar crossed his arms and glared at his brother.

"'m not a porn star," he said, "_You're _a porn star. You like sucking dicks. Big, juicy, hairy, sweaty dicks." Alan scoffed.

"At least I don't take it up the ass," he said.

"I do not take it up the ass!" protested Edgar. "_You _take it up the ass."

"I thought you just said that I suck dicks," said Alan, pouring himself a generous amount of Sammy's "special mixture."

"You suck dicks _and _you take it up the ass. Two guys at once. You're such a whore, Alan," said Edgar admonishingly. Alan rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink with as much drunken dignity as he could muster. Edgar pouted.

"Gimme the bottle," he said, reaching towards his brother. Alan held the bottle up over his head.

"No. You're drunk," said Alan, "Porny Eddy doesn't need anymore to drink. It gets you horny." He blinked, considering what he had just said, and gasped.

"Woah!" he cried, "Porny rhymes with horny! I'm a poet and I don't know it…" Edgar bounced up and down, trying to grab the bottle.

"I'm not horny, and I'm not porny. Give me the bottle, asshole."

"You're humping the floor!" cried Alan, "You drunken, horny nightmare!"

"Give me the bottle!" shouted Edgar, leaping forward and tackling his brother.

"I'm being raped!" yelled Alan, trying to scramble away from his brother.

"Bottle!" cried Edgar, trying to pry Alan's hands off of Sammy's Special Mixture. The liquid inside sloshed dangerously close to the opening.

"You're gonna spill it, you stupid porn star!" yelled Alan, covering the opening of the bottle with his thumb, "Sammy's Special Mixture is precious stuff!"

"I'm not a porn star!"

"You so are!"

Edgar let go of the bottle and sat back on his heels. Alan snickered.

"See, you're not arguing because you know it's true," he said, taking a swig of the green alien brew.

"Know what's true?" asked Edgar, scratching absentmindedly at his ankle.

"That you let guys boink you and film it," said Alan. Edgar frowned and scratched his ankle again.

"No way," he said. "I definitely do not do that. I'd remember if I did. And I don't remember it. So I don't. Do that, I mean. Let guys, uh, boink me."

"Do you suck them?" asked Alan, holding up the bottle and peering into it. "Damn, it's empty."

"Suck what?" asked Edgar, grabbing Alan's still full glass and draining it.

"Hey, man! I was going to drink that!" said Alan, snatching the glass away from his brother. Edgar stuck his tongue out at Alan, then seemed to forget that he had stuck it out and let it hang there, like a dog.

"You didn't answer my que- um, my ques… my kwes-chun," said Alan, momentarily forgetting how to speak. He furrowed his brow and tried to remember how to get understandable sentences out of his mouth. Edgar waggled his tongue back and forth, and up and down, fascinated by its mushy movements.

"Iss sooo… dwoooolyy…" he muttered, his eyes closely following the path it made through the air. Alan raised his eyebrow.

"What?"

Edgar reluctantly drew his wandering tongue back into his mouth and wiped his lips off with the back of his hand.

"It's so drooly," he repeated, "Have you ever noticed how drooly your tongue is? I mean, really _really _noticed?" Alan shook his head.

"I… don't pay that much attention to my tongue," he said, "It's just a thing. In your mouth. You know?" Edgar quickly stuck his tongue out again to get one last glance at it in all of its "drooly", pink glory.

"Nothing is 'just a thing', Alan," he said in his very-serious-vampire-hunter voice. "Everything has meaning. Everything has a purpose. You just need to be present to see all of the possibilities. You can't just passively live in this world, you have been a part of it and notice things around you and—"

"Shut up, porn star." Edgar glared at Alan.

"I'm not a porn star," he said. "As I was saying—"

"Shut up, Edgar Pornstar," said Alan. "I'm going to hit you if you keep blahblah-ing." Edgar pouted.

"You totally are a pornstar," said Alan admonishingly, "I know you are. I mean, look at you! You have all the makings of a totally whorey pornstar slut." Edgar covered his ears with his hands.

"I'm going to stop listening to you now," he said, "I won't uncover my ears until you stop being a stupid." Alan snickered.

"You mean an idiot," he said. "Stupid isn't a verb." Edgar didn't respond, because he couldn't hear a word that Alan was saying. Alan tapped his forehead thoughtfully.

"Wait… do I mean adverb?" He hummed thoughtfully. That didn't sound right either.

"…article?" That definitely wasn't right.

"I'm so confused right now…" Alan tugged on one of Edgar's hands.

"Edgar… listen to meee… I have a question…" Edgar frowned and pressed his hands down harder.

"Leave me alone Alan. My spidey senses tell me that you are still being stupid. I will not take my hands off until you get a brain. A big one. Like mine." Alan scoffed.

"You don't _have _spidey senses. Only Spiderman has spidey senses. That's why they're spidey senses. Because Spiderman has them. If you had them, they'd be… porny senses." Edgar blinked. He wasn't an expert at reading lips, but he could tell that whatever Alan just said had the word 'porny' in it.

"I'm not a porn star," he said.

"Yes you are," said Alan. Edgar didn't say anything. Alan glared at him. This whole 'hands over ears' thing was really annoying. How could he convey 'you're a pornstar' to Edgar? He pointed at Edgar, then gave a blowjob to an imaginary penis. That was probably clear enough for him. Edgar's eyes widened with horror.

"You're my brother! I am _not _going to suck you off!" he cried. Alan sighed and shook his head. He pointed to Edgar, then pointed to an imaginary person sitting next to him, and made the same blowjob gesture. Edgar tilted his head to the side, confused.

"You want me to move over there to suck you off?" Alan groaned and shook his head again. He pointed at Edgar, then got staggeringly to his feet. Alan hadn't watched too much gay porn in his time, but he had seen enough at Sammy's house to have a basic grasp of what happened. Doing his best to seem seductive, he bent over. Edgar wrinkled his nose.

"You want to fuck me up the ass?" Alan sat back down again, frustrated.

"Take your hands off of your ears," he said. Edgar glanced at him suspiciously.

"I can't hear what you're saying, but something tells me that I don't want to hear…" Alan leaned back. He gave up. It was such a shame that Edgar didn't share his intense smartness genes.

"You're a pervert," said Edgar, taking his hands off of his ears. Alan raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you weren't going to take your hands off of your ears until I stopped being stupid," he said, "Being in all of that porn has made you very forgetful." Edgar huffed.

"Just because I took my hands off of my hears doesn't mean I'm going to listen to you. And I'm not a porn star." Alan rolled his eyes.

"Whatever." Edgar glared at him.

"I bet you wish I was. You would totally jack off to any porn I made." Alan retched.

"What? Ew! No! You would be the _worst _porn star ever! No one would ever hire you!"

"But you keep saying that I'm a porn star… How could I be a porn star if no one hired me?"

"You… you film your own porn! It's self produced!"

"What the fuck? Self produced porn? You're… an idiot."

"At least I'm not a _porn star_!"

"Would you stop that?"

--

As Edgar and Alan continued their highly intellectual debate, the tentacles (now 69 in number) were spreading over the entire hillside, causing a landslide of semen not unlike the one that Michael and David had produced when they attempted their 48 hour sex marathon. The tentacles reached farther and farther from the hole that they had come from, making a nauseating squelching noise. Whatever was attached to all of these tentacles was having a bit of trouble coming out.

"Shit… fucking hole… not fucking big enough… I'll _make _it big enough" A gruff male voice came from within.

"All of this pulling is hurting me…" whined a soft female voice, like that of a preteen girl.

"I want to stick something big and hard and juicy in this gaping hole. This hole is just begging for it. Listen to it beg me," said another male voice, smoother than the first one.

"I've never told anyone this before, but I get all wet and dripping every time I see a moose," said a serene female voice. The tentacles gave one last, vicious yank, and with a particularly loud squelch, they dislodged themselves completely and collapsed onto the ground next to the hole. Copious amounts of clear and white fluids dribbled out of the now empty hole.

"That was _wonderful_," purred a warm, seductive female voice. About ten other voices hummed their agreement. The tentacles swirled around lazily what was now a lake of semen. Gravity slowed pulled the semen downhill, towards Santa Carla, creating a gentle current.

"Pull me out of the water," whined a young male voice, "I want to see what's going on above the surface." The smoother male from before chuckled.

"It's not water, pet…" The tentacles sank back under the semen and slowly their burden began to rise above the surface.

It was a tulip.

Or rather, it looked like a tulip. A shiny leather tulip.

Slowly the petals of the tulip, or whatever it was, began to unfurl, and a tousled head of red hair was revealed. The head rose cautiously, and a pale, pretty teenage boy looked around suspiciously.

"What is this place?" he asked. "This doesn't look like Finland." The tulip petals twitched and gracefully pulled closed, only to open again. This time, however, a tall woman clad in a long black skirt and a partially unbuttoned white shirt stood there. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a conservative bun and a pair of glasses sat on her nose.

"That's because it isn't Finland, Darren," she said, adjusting her glasses. "We've told you that a hundred times. It's California." The petals closed and opened quickly. The teenage boy stood there once more, his arms crossed over his bare chest, and his lips pouting in a most delicious and adorable fashion.

"I wanted to go to Finland," he whined, "Why are we in Caliherina?"

"Cali_fornia_," said a bulky, muscular man as the petals closed and opened. "And please stay down Darren. You aren't helping at all."

"You're such a meanie," whined Darren from below.

"And you've been a naughty boy, not listening to what teacher told you," said the woman, "Do I need to spank you?"

"Oh yes!" said another male voice, "May I please help, Ms. Shaw?" Ms. Shaw sighed.

"Alright. You may hold his hands and gag him. I'll go fetch the crop." The male voice giggled.

"What should I gag him with?" it asked evilly.

"I think you know," muttered Ms. Shaw.

"Oh no!" cried Darren in a totally unconvincing voice, "Please don't spank me and force me to suck Howard's big, juicy— mmfffff!"

--

"I feel a great disturbance in the Force," muttered Edgar, absentmindedly fiddling with the carpet fiber.

"You're drunk as fuck," replied Alan, tapping out a random rhythm on his thighs.

--

"Would all of you just cut that out!" cried a girl with long, silky blonde hair as the petals opened. Blue, skintight material clung to every inch of her body, except for her chest, which was left uncovered for some unknown reason. Not that it was a bad thing.

"We have something we came here to do, and we'll never get it done if you keep spanking and sucking and licking and fucking and…" she trailed off, biting her lip, "Oh… I'm getting so wet…" A few drops of obscene, clear fluid soaked through the thin material of her pants.

"I agree with Charlene!" cried a young man in a crisp suit. "We came here for a reason. We've been sitting, waiting, growing stronger for hundreds of years, stuck in the deep recesses of hell because of _this town_, and now that we have an opportunity to take our revenge, you're all just laying around _fucking_? Like you have been for hundreds of years?"

"Oh James, you're so passionate…" murmured a lecherous male voice.

"He's right," said Ms. Shaw, delivering a particularly sharp slap to Darren's bottom. Darren moaned appreciatively. "We can't sit around any longer. The time has come for destruction, fire, blood, death, explosions, gratuitous violence, long action sequences, unnecessary gore, horrified screaming, and _sexual fluids._ _Vast _quantities of sexual fluids." A chorus of voices of various ages and genders shouted in agreement.

"They will _pay_!"

--

"Did you know that there's 5 to 7 calories in a teaspoon of semen?" asked Edgar, rolling over to face his brother.

"No, I did not know that," said Alan, "But it seems like the kind of thing you'd know. Since, well, you're a _porn star _and all." Edgar frowned.

"I hate you sometimes."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Omigawd! We now know what the Hentai Monster looks like! But the story still makes no sense! In case it wasn't clear, it's a giant tulip bulb-ish thing ontop of 69 tentacles (it looks kind of like a retarded octopus), and a different person comes up in the tulip each time it opens or closes. Each of those people is a hentai cliché. Or just a weird person of my own making.

**If you would like a person in the tulip to be named after you, or based on you, or one of your characters, or whatever, just send me a name and maybe a description and I'll include it in there somewhere. **'Cause, yeah. I always need ideas.

Yeah, when I said I wasn't good at multichaps, _I wasn't lying_. It takes me forever to finish one chapter, and when I do, it's totally not good. I'm trying here though. I'm going way out of my comfort zone with this xD Sorry. I had to use that expression. I'm going on this retreat, friendship-building thing on Wednesday and one of their goals is to "push me out of my comfort zone." Fuck you, ropes course people.

And I get carried away writing dumb, crack-ish dialogue. It's very entertaining to write, fer some reason xP

I'm gonna do my best to get the next chapter up sometime soon-ish. No promises though. School starts unofficially tomorrow, and classes start for real on the 15th, so I'm going to have homework and shit to worry about, and hella shorter evenings because I have to get up so goddamn early (6AM! It's fucking sadistic!) And I'm getting hella grimmcest plot bunnies because I just saw it again recently (god I love that movie .).

So, yeah, after that totally unnecessary blab about nothing in particular, I'm going to cut myself off and end with the typical: read, review, feedback, &c.


	3. Chapter 3: The origin

**Attack of the Hentai Monster**

**_Chapter Three_**

**Warnings: **Every time I think that it just CAN'T GET ANY MORE CRACKISH, it does. Sorry.

_This chapter may be a little... meh. I didn't really like it too much._

_

* * *

_

"Everyone, listen to me!" shouted James, trying to quiet the endless flow of chatter from the occupants of the tulip.

Perhaps "occupants" isn't the correct word.

I suppose the origins of the strange monster clinging to the side of the Santa Carla hill need to be explained.

The monster was not born, not like a "normal" creature. A larger male version of it did not mate with a larger female version and impregnate that female version, causing that female version to give birth to the monster in question some months later. Since the monster didn't have a definitive gender, it would be silly to assume that there were others like it that did.

The monster didn't hatch from an egg either. What would lay such an egg? And what would fertilize it? Eggs still require input from both a male and a female, most of the time.

It wasn't a strange hybrid. An octopus did not mate with a tulip-hentai cliché thing and create the ungodly thing that was splashing around idly in a sea of its own semen.

The monster's story begins in a dark cave on the planet of Eineew, in the galaxy of Anigav.

****

A lonely individual sat hunched over a laptop, one hand down the front of his pants, stroking furiously at his erection, the other down the back of his pants, adventurously plundering his asshole. On the screen, a pixilated video of a girl getting violated by seven men and an octopus was playing.

The name of this individual was Chester. Chester BlueFire3756. The 3756th person in the BlueFire series, a rather unsuccessful series of beings. BlueFires were good for mindless desk jobs and not much else. They weren't particularly good-looking either, in the opinions of most people. Scrawny, pale, with faces that were always a little bit confused. As a result, they didn't get much "action", if you know what I mean (I certainly _hope _that you do).

That's why Chester was staring avidly at the animation on the screen, wishing more than anything that it was real. What he wouldn't give to have something wonderful like that happen in his life. If only, if only.

But then, Chester wondered as he gave a particularly vicious jab to his prostate, why couldn't it happen? In the year 10334, on the technologically advanced planet he resided on, nearly anything was possible.

Chester glanced at his virtual reality apparatus. One could create any environment or situation they imagined. Could it be possible to create the most realistic, perverted universe you could ever imagine?

Why, of course! It was The Future, after all. It had flying cars, and plastic underwear, and everything that The Future ought to have.

Chester wouldn't be satisfied with a virtual universe, however. Pornographic VR's were a very common thing, and he'd started to get bored of them. They knowledge that what you're engaging in is just a VR is kind of a turn off. No, Chester, wanted reality. Solid, touchable, lickable, fuckable, unimagined, _real _reality.

How does one go about turning fantasy into reality?

With very intricate machinery, of course.

Colander on the head.

Jumper cables on the colander.

Jumper cables hooked up to the VR Creator.

VR Creator attached to many pie pans with more jumper cables.

How could it fail?

Switch flipped to the ON position.

The VR machine crackled and buzzed dangerously as Chester's fantasies were fed into it in a jumbled mass. If he'd had half a brain, he might've realized that separating all of his fantasies would be much more intelligent than letting them all play out at once.

BlueFires weren't known for being particularly intelligent, however.

A greenish-grey smoke began to gather around the pie pans, and slowly morphed in semi-recognizable shapes: tentacles, furries, dickgirls, large phalluses, massive breasts, vaginas like gaping crevices, &c. &c.

Chester was pleased so far. He very much liked those things. In fact, he liked them so much that just seeing clouds of smoke that were short of shaped like them was enough to get him very hot and bothered. He began to fantasize in earnest.

Milk spurting breasts, toothed vaginas, dildos three feet in diameter, gerbils, all manner of things that _should not be mixed_. Stupid Chester. Stupid, stupid Chester. He really should have known better. But we can't really blame him. He was a BlueFire. If he was a HoneyMushroom, it would have been a different story.

Stupid Chester did not realize how monumental his mistake was until it was much too late. The smoke floating above the pie pans began to solidify, though still continued to morph. Chester's lips twitched into a self-satisfied little smirk. He was such a bloody genius. He was going to be getting laid _all night long. _And maybe well into the next day. _For sure _into the next day. (Lots of emphasis was needed on those thoughts). Wouldn't you too want to go all day and all night if you had a real live hentai fantasy to play with?

Psh, I know I would.

A lime green tentacle peeled away from the writhing mass and reached for Chester. Chester let it wrap around his torso and pull him in eagerly. It his haste to relieve the pressure in his crotch, however, he let the colander fall from his head.

The poor piece of kitchen equipment, which was surely going to need therapy after all it had seen, bounced unenthusiastically across the floor and landed in a corner. Without Chester's haphazard fantasies to exercise some slight control over it, the monster began to spasm and twitch. It dropped Chester unceremoniously on the floor and shuddered like a leaf in the wind.

"Oh my god!" exclaimed Chester, as more and more tentacles began to peel away from the main body. His eyes darted around the room, and finally landed on the therapy-needing colander sitting in the corner. Shit! He crawled over and jammed the colander on his head. He just needed to think of a way to control the monster. He concentrated on people: lovely, sexy, hentai people. Yes…

Suddenly, a gentle wind blew in through the opening of the cave, and its scent reminded Chester of the tulips that grew in Winifred GummiBear69's yard…

No! Not tulips. Leather, leather, people, tentacles—gah! He groaned in frustration as he tried to control his wild fantasies, to no avail.

With each passing minute, the monster became more and more solid, and moved away from the HIGHLY TECHNOLOGICAL MACHINARY from whence it came. It seemed to be slowly becoming an independent organism. Soon it would be free of the machinery, free to go out into the universe and do as it pleased, free to destroy the widely accepted reality.

He could have unplugged the machine and cut off the monster's grotesque evolution. Or splashed water on it (H2O + electricity = not good). Or smashed it with a large, blunt object, like the erection he was unwillingly developing. He didn't want to be aroused by what was looking like his certain doom, but he couldn't help it. It was just so… hot.

With one last groan and a wrench that sent electrical sparks flying, the monster dislodged itself from the machine, and, well, the rest is easy to guess.

It killed Chester, and ate his brains, but not before fucking him viciously up the bum, while blowing him, and shoving another six dozen cocks down his throat.

Chester died a very happy man.

He was in great amounts of pain, but overall, happy. After all, he had been a virgin all his life. Before that, his sexual experiences were limited to the sort you have with your hand and sometimes special toys.

The next logical move you could make if you were a demented creation, born from the mind of a perverted and sexually frustrated young man, enjoying freedom for the first time in your life, would be to rape and destroy the rest of the planet.

The Hentai Monster (what else are we to call it?) thought so too.

So it did.

****

"Would you all please shut up?" said James, still gallantly trying to shut up the hordes of pornographic clichés, all clamoring to be heard. They might have spawned from the mind of an unintelligent pervert, but they still had many human characteristics, one of which the constant certainty that their opinion was much more important than everyone else's. Being a magical creature doesn't necessarily make one anymore wise and conscious than the average person.

"Guys! Please!" he cried, waving his arms around in the darkness of the tulip. And, again, he was ignored. James pouted dejectedly. This was not going well at all.

"EVERYONE! SHUT YOUR TRAPS BEFORE I RAPE YOU ALL SO HARD THAT YOU BLEED FROM THE ASSHOLE FOR WEEKS!" roared Chuck, rearing up to his full height and ripping his shirt open. Everyone shut their mouths in a very audible manner. It went 'smack!'

"Thank you," said Chuck, retreating back to the underbelly of the tulip. James cleared his throat and stood up.

"Thank you for your attention," he said. "Now, as you all know, we are here in Santa Clara with a _purpose_. A most important sort of purpose. Revenge. What could be more important than that? For centuries, we've hidden in the most trashy part of this planet, surrounded by detestable creatures, with no manners and horrible body odor."

"Seriously," said Darren, "Satan smelled like a dirty vagina."

"I have no problem with that," said Andrew, "Any vagina is a good vagina."

"People," said James, stopping the impending rush of opinions about vaginas, "Focus. Focus focus focus. Remember all of the unpleasant things we suffered through, for no reason at all. Are you angry? Because I am. I'm very, very angry."

"I'm angry too," said a quiet, shy voice.

"No shit, Priscilla, we're all angry," said Howard, rolling his eyes.

"Exactly," said James, "_So_, shouldn't we be doing something about that?"

"Absolutely."

"Yessir."

"Hai!"

"Oui."

"I like sex."

"I'm going to ask that you not talk about sex while we're in the middle of making plans, okay?" said James.

"What?! That's stupid!" cried Howard, "I don't like your attitude, man!"

"Howard, shut your mouth," said Ms. Shaw, as the tulip opened and closed. "James is right. We want revenge. We _need _revenge. And we're not going to get it if we just lie around and fuck like we have been for so long."

"Well, okay then, what's the plan?" asked Darren. Ms. Shaw pushed her glasses back up on her nose.

"We don't have one yet," she said, "That's why we're trying to get everyone to shut up. So we can _make _one."

"We need to hit them hard, in a sensitive place," said Charlene. Howard put a hand protectively over his ballsack.

"That doesn't sound nice," he said.

"We aren't trying to be nice."

Howard laughed nervously. "Right, forgot about that."

"But everyone kept talking about all of the strange things that went on in Santa Crawler," said Darren, "Won't they kind of be protecting all of their sensitive places?"

"Santa _Carla, _Darren. And yes. Their defenses will probably be much stronger than the other places we've encountered. That doesn't mean they will be impossible to defeat, though."

"We need to hit them somewhere they've never been hit before, somewhere important, but that they'd never expect to be attacked," said James, taking off his glasses and polishing them on a rag. He wrinkled his nose as milky fluids rubbed off of the rag onto his glasses.

"Who used my rag to wipe up cum again?" he demanded. No one answered. "I've told you guys a million times that this rag _needs to stay clean_. This is the rag I use to clean my glasses, and I really don't want to have to squint through a haze of semen."

"Why not?" asked Pierre, "That sounds sort of sexy to me."

"Shut up, Pierre."

"Yeah, seriously," said Andrew, "That's just disgusting. Ladycum is the only way to go. Guy jizz… that's just yucky."

"You are simply an uncultured heathen," said Pierre, "You do not know about the more sophisticated pleasures in life."

"Sucking some guy's dick is a sophisticated pleasure?"

"Certainly more sophisticated than shoving your face into a smelly vagina!"

"Pierre, Andrew, please," said Ms. Shaw, "Do you want to be punished?"

"Yes ma'am!" said Andrew.

"Not by you…" said Pierre, gagging. Ms. Shaw glared at him.

"Then I suggest you shut your mouth and let us figure something out in peace, all right?"

"What does every person value, but never bother to protect?" wondered James, rubbing the semen off of his glasses with a corner of his shirt.

"Their children?" suggested Darren, twirling a piece of his hair between his fingers.

"That's a very stupid answer," said Drew, sneering, "I just thought I'd let you know that. _Everyone _goes for the children, and they _always _fail."

"I don't see you coming up with any ideas," said Darren, pouting.

"Stop bickering or I _will _get out the whip." Drew and Darren gulped nervously.

"Yes ma'am!"

"I was going to suggest their souls, but I guess that's rather cliché too," said Pierre.

"How about their clothes?" suggested Charlene. Everyone blinked, confused.

"We could take all of their clothes in the middle of the night, so when they wake up, BOOM! No clothes! How could they fight off an invasion if they're naked?" she explained.

"That's even stupider than Darren's idea," said Drew. Charlene frowned.

"Shut up, you flat-chested bitch."

"Who're you calling bitch, whore?"

"Again with the bickering!" shouted Ms. Shaw, finally losing her composure, "Howard, get me my whip!"

"This doesn't seem to be working," said James with a sigh.

"M-maybe, we can watch them for a few days, and… see if we can think of a plan, then," said Priscilla. James nodded.

"At this point, I think that's the only thing we can do," he said, as about seven different fights broke out all at once.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'm really sorry it took so long for this D: As I've mentioned before, I get distracted so easily by other story ideas, or I just get wrapped up too much in my life (which is sort of weird, because I don't have much of a life. But, oh well). But here I am. Updating again. Hopefully I can get back into a good Lost Boys pattern. Now that finals are over and I have a ridiculously long weekend (WOO!), I'll have time to think and write and whatnot. I'm going to try my best not to get distracted.

Anyway, enough with the shit you don't care about, and onto shit that you might possibly care about.

**1) **My offer to put your character as part of the Hentai Monster still stands. Just send me a character profile and I'll see what I can do ;]

**2) **Draw me a picture of how you imagine the Hentai Monster and send it to me, cuzz I'm interested in seeing what y'all are picturing.

**3) **Since I'm such a shitty updater, I thought that I'd offer sex scenes as a compensation. Though I am not so good at writing sex, I can certainly try to insert a lemon here and there of a pairing you'd like to see. Yee.

Go check out **lostboysslash** on livejournal. The community needs your love! And look me up on Mibba if you want to read some of the other stuff I've been writing recently. My username is **ohnonottheanalprobe**.

Review, &c.


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